"How dare you laugh at me? You just wait, I’m telling my dad..."

"Your dad, your dad, is that all you can say? What can you do besides run to your dad?" Qian Zhuye rubbed his ears, annoyed. "Your dad was severely beaten and still hasn’t recovered. You should stop bothering him. Let him rest in peace."

"How could you..."

"Oh... wait, no. I meant ’rest,’" Qian Zhuye said with a grin.

Gao Qi’s face flushed red with anger. He shot a furious glare at Qian Zhuye, then his gaze landed on Ye Qianning.

Sang Zhi stepped forward, shielding Ye Qianning. His gray eyes met Gao Qi’s.

Gao Qi’s anger turned to shock, then to fear. Rumor had it that meeting the Eighth Prince’s gaze would bring bad luck. He stumbled back two steps, turned, and pushed his way through the crowd to leave the academy.

Sang Zhi narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze around the room. The other students immediately lowered their heads, turned, and filed out of the academy.

It might just be a rumor, but those gray eyes were still unnervingly eerie.

A smile played on Ye Qianning’s lips. She looked down, lifted her brush from the Xuan paper, pulled out the ink-stained sheet, replaced it with a fresh one, and went back to her writing.

Sang Zhi turned around and saw she had reverted to her old posture. "That’s not right."

"This is how I write."

Sang Zhi reached out to correct her grip on the brush, though he didn’t guide her hand to write as he had before.

But Ye Qianning was stubborn. As she wrote, a twitch of two fingers was all it took for her to shift back to her preferred grip.

Sang Zhi was just as stubborn. The moment she changed it back, he’d reach over and fix it again. This went on and on. In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, she hadn’t managed to complete a single character...

Qian Zhuye just watched the two stubborn mules, his expression darkening. If the tutor wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he would have just finished the copying for her.

When it came to stubbornness, Ye Qianning had never met her match. She hadn’t expected Sang Zhi to be so persistent. This wasn’t just a matter of being obstinate anymore. In her mind, it had escalated into a matter of pride.

Sang Zhi would force her hand into the correct posture, but after a character or two, she would instantly switch back. Afterward, she’d even shake her head smugly, her small frame swaying with delight.

At first, Sang Zhi was determined, but the more he watched her defiant antics, the angrier he got. He finally threw down the brush in a huff. "You’re incorrigible! I’m done teaching you."

"Good riddance." Ye Qianning beamed.

Sang Zhi stomped off, his face dark.

Ye Qianning started humming a cheerful little tune, her brush never pausing.

"That’s the first time I’ve ever seen anyone make the Eighth Prince that angry." Qian Zhuye watched Sang Zhi leave, then turned back and rested his head on his desk in amazement.

"Are you praising me?"

"Of course I am."

"You have good taste," Ye Qianning complimented.

"Hehe," Qian Zhuye chuckled.

"Young Miss." Luo Wen approached, carrying a tray of food.

Ye Qianning set down her brush and stretched lazily, eyeing the meal. ’Not bad, there are even pork ribs.’

"Someone actually brings you your food?"

"You don’t?"

"...Probably no one in the entire academy does," Qian Zhuye said, dejected. He had been waiting to go to the dining hall with her, but he hadn’t expected someone to bring her meal.

"Well, I’m being punished, aren’t I?" Ye Qianning said, picking up her chopsticks. "If you don’t hurry to the dining hall, you’re going to miss lunch."

"I’m off, then!" The words were barely out of Qian Zhuye’s mouth before he was already running out the door.

Ye Qianning stared at the figure who had all but teleported out of the room. ’Qian Zhuye is really tall. He’s the same age as Sang Zhi but a whole head taller. I only come up to his chest.’

’At this rate, he’ll definitely be over 1.8 meters when he’s older. He’s already so handsome. He’ll surely be even more handsome than Qian Fanji when he grows up. The Qian family really has good genes.’

"Young Miss, Du Ying is back," Luo Wen said.

"Did he bring back the greatsword?"